


5 Things Cas can get Away with that Sam can’t (and 1 Thing Cas can’t)

by Insanefangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel/Dean Winchester without Sam Winchester is no fun, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, M/M, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:00:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25963252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insanefangirl/pseuds/Insanefangirl
Summary: Sam loves that his brother and best friend are together -finally. Now that they are happily together, Sam starts to notice things. He gets a little envious
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 7
Kudos: 150





	5 Things Cas can get Away with that Sam can’t (and 1 Thing Cas can’t)

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own supernatural or characters

Sam was envious, envious not jealous mind you. He was envious of something someone else had, not something he had that was threatened, he went to Stanford for a reason. Yep, he was green with envy. 

“Dean!” Sam honestly sounded like a five year old even to his own ears. 

“Sam!” Dean mocked, still holding the razor. 

“This is ridiculous,” Sam placed a chair between him and his brother. “I’m an adult Dean, you can’t tell me how to look.”

“I’m your big brother, I always get a say on your fashion choices.” Dean took a step forward, Sam a step back. “Now, I’ve accepted the girl hair, but I can’t look at you with both the girl hair and the beard.” 

“I like it.” Sam turned to walk down the hall towards his own room. 

“Hair is completely covering your face!” His brother followed him. “Sam, this is happening whether you’re conscious or not.” 

“Stay out of my room!” Yep, Sam was definitely channeling his inner adolescent self. 

“It’s for the greater good, Sammy.”

“How come you didn’t complain about Cas’ beard?” Sam demanded, the reason behind his envy. 

“Because unless you’re rimming me I don’t see the point in the thing.” Dean said deliberately to get a rise out of his brother. 

“Dude!” He succeeded. “I didn’t need that image.” 

“Now will you let me shave it?” 

“No, I’m shaving it myself, but only because I keep getting blood and guts stick in it.” Sam snatched the razor from Dean’s hand and stormed to the safety of his room.

—————/2

“When was the last time you ate something green?” Sam made a face at his brother’s latest grease saturated food -if you good call it that- choice. 

“Yesterday.” At Sam’s raised eyebrows he elaborated. “There was a leaf of lettuce on my burger.” 

Sam’s skeptical face turned into bitchface number 8 as Dean had named it. So far he thought Dean had labeled 36 of his different bitch faces TM. 

“Your poor arteries.” Sam mourned. “There’s apples in the fridge.” He tried. 

“Great, I’ll make them into a pie later.”

“Not what I meant.” Sam huffed. “We aren’t twenty anymore, Dean, it wouldn’t kill you to make better food choices.” 

“I’m in perfect shape, dude.” Dean shot him a smirk. “Right, honey?” 

Cas looked up at his boyfriend. He had obviously not been paying attention to this afternoon’s banter. 

“Sorry, what?” 

“Dean should eat healthier.” Sam jumped in before Dean could. “More vegetables, right Cas?” 

“Oh, yes, I agree with Sam.” Dean looked betrayed at Cas’ words. 

“Hey! You’re supposed to be on my side.” He protested. 

“I would appreciate it if you would fuel your body with healthier foods, Dean.” Cas reasoned and Sam nodded a long. “I won’t always have my grace to clear your heart.” 

“If high cholesterol is what kills me, that’s a win.” Dean took a large bite. 

“I don’t want you to get sick over something so mundane that I would otherwise be able to fix.” Cas placed a hand on Dean’s arm. The angel’s stare was intense on his brother. 

“I think this meat is a little funky anyway.” Dean set down his sandwich, wiped his face, and gave Cas a sweet kiss on the cheek before going to the kitchen to dump his monstrosity. 

“Thank you, Dean.” Cas called before returning to his book. 

Sam stared at the angel as if he had just performed a miracle. He had. Dean came back five minutes later with an apple, not baked into a pie. 

“I love you.” Cas looked a little smug at his victory. 

“You better.” Dean grumbled but ate his apple to the core. 

————/3

Cas sat in the front in their way back from a large vamp hunt in Maine. Sam had given it up so he could sprawl out in the back and nap the twenty-eight hour drive his brother would try to make in one go. He would probably switch with their passenger who didn’t sleep at hour fourteen but Sam appreciate the want to just get home. 

It had been a week long hunt. A week searching the miles of swamp land for the small island the vamps had set up at, far away from town so their victims screams could be heard for miles without bothering anyone. 

When they had finally killed the nest they had all gotten out with relatively few injuries. A couple scraps and bruises scattered throughout their bodies they had disinfected but had otherwise left alone. With Cas’ weakened grace they had refused angelic healing. Sam could tell it pained Cas not to be able to heal Dean. 

Sam allowed sleep to take him over at hour two. He was lulled to sleep by Dean’s tunes, and the conversation from the front seat about car washes. 

When he awoke it was to the radio being turned up to the highest setting. 

“Now you’ve woken Sam!” Cas hissed at Dean after he flicked the music back down to a much lower level. 

“I woke him?!” Dean shouted. “I saved his ears from your blasphemy.” 

“I just saying there are other genres of music to listen to, and I don’t want to listen to your three tapes for a twenty eight hour drive.”

“Each of those songs is a work of art.” Dean jabbed his finger at the tape player in the impala. 

Cas gave his brother an icy glare. Without breaking eye contact, he ejected the tape and switched to the radio. Sam gaped. He waited for the explosion but it didn’t come. 

Cas flipped through the channels until he settled on an Eminem song. He then settled back in his seat, looking smug. 

Sam waited for it. The famous line Dean had been saying to him since the impala had been passed to him on his sixteenth birthday. Everyone knew driver picked the music and shotgun shut their cake hole. 

It never came. 

“You get two songs.” Dean grumbled. “And this isn’t music.”

Cas pecked his cheek before settling back into his seat. The rapper’s lyrics filled the car like a foreign language. Sam was shocked, but he eventually fell asleep again to the thumping beat. 

———-/4

“Dean, where did you put it?” Sam was rifling through his brother’s duffle he had left on his motel bed. 

“Dude, what the hell?” Dean walked over to him. “Get out of my stuff.”

Dean tried to tug the bag from Sam’s grip but he held fast. 

“I know you took my hoodie. Where is it?” 

“What would I want with your hoodie?” Dean asked. They were now playing an intense game of tug of war over the duffle. 

“I don’t know; to annoy me, wash it with beer, to hide it under your smelly socks for months.” 

“Good ideas for the future.” Dean tugged roughly and Sam tackled him to the gross vibrant motel carpet. 

Cas walked in with dinner and stepped over the wresting boys. He had a bored look on his face as he sat down the fast food bags and took out a computer. 

Eventually the smell of food was enough to lure Dean away with a final rough shove to his brother. He snatched his bag, gathered it’s contents from the floor, zipped it, and set it on his bed. 

From his position Sam spotted his grey hoodie under the bed. It must have fallen out of Dean’s bag in the scuffle. He grabbed it, now too warm to wear it after the wrestling, but needing to make a statement, pulled it on. His cheeks were flushed and Dean looked too much like he had won.

After they ate Dean grabbed some cloths and his bathroom kit saying he was going to shower. Both Sam and Cas made a none committal noise. The water started and they stayed in their research. 

About five minutes in Cas closed the computer and stood. Sam glanced at him. The angel walked over to the bed he was sharing with Dean, sat down, and reached for the duffle the brothers had been fighting over earlier. 

Sam watched him take everything out and set it aside. Once the bag was empty he folded all the cloths and began to place everything neatly back. 

Just as Cas was about half way through with his reorganizing, Dean walked out of the bathroom. He didn’t look surprised or angry at the angel’s antics. Instead he simply asked for his green flannel. 

“Dude,” Sam couldn’t help himself. “You literally just tackled me for going through your bag.”

“Actually you tackled me.” Dean pointed out. Sam gave him bitch gave number thirty seven. 

“That is true, Sam.” Cas spoke up. Dean gave his boyfriend a sweet kiss for backing him up. 

“Whatever.” Sam knew when he was fighting a losing battle. “So get this...”

——————/5

“I’m just saying the body didn’t have a bite mark like all the others.” Sam said as he put light dressing on his salad. 

“And I’m just saying there wasn’t enough of the body to recognize a single mark.” Dean had a mouth full of his burger as he spoke. 

“But that’s just it.” Sam pressed. “None of the other vics were so mutilated.” 

“Are you imply more then one killer?” Cas asked from Dean’s side of the booth, their elbows pressed together. 

“I don’t know. I’m just saying they don’t match up.” Sam threw his hands up. This case was stressful and made no sense. 

“Perhaps they’re working together, the victim was the another male from that soccer team.” Cas stated. 

Then the angel did something unbelievable. Sam watched his best friend cross a line he had thought was firmly placed in stone. No, Cas reached over and stole a fry off his brother’s plate. 

Dean didn’t bat an eye. Sam knew from personal experience Dean would take a stab at any offending hand with a fork if it crossed over his food. Cas didn’t even eat. Sam stared. 

“...Sound good, Sammy?” Dean was saying. 

“Sure, yeah.” Sam nodded, having no idea what he just said sounded “good”. 

Instead he watched as Cas took another fry, this one dipped in ketchup. Dean didn’t make a move to his utensils. Sam decided to try something. 

He reached over for a fry from his brother’s plate. Just as he had every single time of Sam’s life, Dean swatted at Sam’s hand. He was just grateful it didn’t have sharp edges. 

“Dude, if you wanted fries you shouldn’t have gotten your frilly salad.” Dean shot at him. 

“Interesting.” Was all Sam said. 

Dean and Cas shared a look of confusion. Then Dean shrugged and dug back into his food. They went back to discussing the case. 

———————/1

“Dean!” Cas roared. 

Sam winced and considered leaving the kitchen to avoid the quarreling couple. A glance at the microwave told him he should tough out the two minutes for his reheating hotdish. 

“What do you want me to do about it, Cas?” Dean yelled back. “It wasn’t not my fault!”

“You couldn’t be quiet for five minutes to listen to me! I told you they had another child.” Oh, they were still arguing about the latest case. Well, technically they had just started to actually argue. The entire ride home had been full of snide comments and icy looks. 

“How was I supposed to know they had adopted?” Dean was aggressively opening the fridge. “There was no record, she was taken in off the street.” Sam kept his head down, tapping his food in an attempt to hurry the timer along. 

“It was on the Christmas card!” If looks could kill Dean would be smote right where he stands with a beer in his hand. “I knew that, but you wouldn’t listen! You had to go in blind-“

“So I didn’t know about one ghost, Cas. I didn’t go in blind. You and Sam were on the way! Not even ten minutes behind me.” Dean took a long drag of his beer. His green eyes were glaring back at his boyfriend with the same amount of fire. 

“Ten minutes can make all the difference! We’ve seen that first hand!” 

Thirty seconds to go. 

“Oh yeah, from your year’s worth of hunting experience.” Dean’s eyes were rolling just as the microwave went off. 

Sam didn’t even check to see if his food was actually warm enough. He grabbed the too hot plate and made a break for his room. 

Just as he turned the corner he heard it. 

“You’re being such a jerk!” Cas had snapped. 

Sam stopped, frozen in the hall. It was ridiculous. ‘Jerk’ was a common insult, and come on, Cas’ go to is assbutt. It shouldn’t bug him. Sam goes to shake it off. When the silence he hadn’t even noticed had settled was broken. 

“Don’t call me that.” Dean said. His voice was back to a normal level. “You can call me whatever you want, but not that.” 

At those words something settled inside Sam. Something he hadn’t even realized had been on shaky ground. 

He had thought he was doing okay with Dean’s knew relationship. Cas was his best friend and he had been waiting for them to get together for years. Sam could see Dean was happy with the angel, and that’s all Sam ever wanted for his brother. 

Now that he thought about it, he could see it had, not necessarily upset him, more like unsettled him. It had always been just him and Dean. Cas and others had been around, but at the end of the day it was Sam and Dean in some shady motel, the rumbling impala, or now the bunker. 

Now Cas stayed. He was with them 98% of the time. Sam wasn’t complaining, he loved Cas like a brother -not like how Dean claimed to love him like a brother-, but it was an adjustment he had been unaware of he had to make. Sam was no longer the one to patch his brother up, calm him from a nightmare, or know without a doubt he was the only one who knew Dean better then Dean knew himself. 

Standing frozen in the hallway, plate full of hotdish in his hand, it clicked. Everything settled. Dean would love Cas with every fiber of his being, but Sam would always have a special place in his big brother’s heart. 

Sam quickly wiped at the few tears that had leaked out of his eyes. Chuck, Dean would never let him live this down if he found out. He continued to his room, the yelling having resumed behind him. 

Later he would find a way to tell Dean how happy he was for him. He would find a way to thank his brother for everything. He would tell him in a way that wouldn’t be labeled as a chick flick moment. Maybe Sam would bring him a glass of the smooth whiskey from the library, or find a good movie on. For now he’ll eat his leftover hotdish in his room with music coming through his headphones to drown out the arguing couple that was made up of the people he loved most -that loved him most.


End file.
